Tuesday, September 09, 2003

the 'people' sensed the terminology and the 'aliens' felt surprise. the buffeting of tradewinds from ocular places and sonic pool rendered the program flat and spiritless. the space between us proves inherited, a long stride of knowing right turns and left, until straight is engagement with the curvilinear experience. such a touch, formally confused. the children have sulked into a grander relation to 'it all' while we grown instill and parcels that we hold. each thing that we cherish tells a different story. not the aliens or the children, both heartfelt, get the drift. these are nightly exhausts, while waiting. the nation as a 'whole' jams into a corner, murderous for peace.

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